Before It Breaks
by CaitlinWalker
Summary: Set pre-show. Marriage is tricky for any couple, never mind the CIA's power couple. When Joan starts to have her suspicions about Arthur, who is there to trust? Is there anyone that can be trusted? (A fic written with ArjoForever)
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: This fic is a joint fic and would, thus, not be possible without ArjoForever (who actually gave me the idea to write my other fic "Firsts" and who I can never thank her enough for that particular idea. Thank you for reading and ALL reviews, follows and favourites are greatly appreciated, so thank you in advance.**

**Oh and disclaimer: We do not own these characters. (We can only wish that we did!)**

**#**

_Nine o'clock._

Sitting at the dining table, Joan pushed the last few remaining strings of cold spaghetti around her plate as she watched the clock. Her husband had been working late, as he had been a lot recently and had done a lot of times during his tenure as DCS. She had accepted that and fully understood that. But he had told her that he would be back by eight, at the latest. He had _promised_ her that.

He was no doubt snowed under tons of work at the moment, as he often was, but still. She may be fully accepting and fully understanding of his predicament, thanks in no small part to her often unsocial hours and years of experience of being married to the DCS, but at the end of the day, she was just that. Married to the DCS; a wife who just wanted her husband home. Dinner may be out of the question now but small talk and cuddling up on the sofa or in bed was still possible. If he were to get his ass home, that was.

Getting up from her seat, she moved to retrieve her phone from her bag.

# # #

_Message from Joan Campbell._

Sighing, his finger hovered over his phone screen, knowing full well the general gist of the message from his wife. It was inevitable and it was what pained him the most. The lies, the secrets, and the sort of stuff he had promised not to ever do. Guilt washed over him as he opened the message and he was not disappointed.

"_Hey, I know you've probably just lost track of time and I know you're drowning under a stack of paperwork but I just hope everything's OK. Drive safe, I'll wait up for you." _

Arthur sighed again, an eternal war raging inside of him. He wanted to reply and say don't bother but he also wanted to just go home. He shouldn't be here. Not when he had an amazing and caring wife who'd do absolutely anything for him including the little things like waiting up for him. He was still staring at the message when the phone buzzed again and he instantly opened the message from her.

"_I love you. X"_

Remorse whacked him again, nearly knocking him sideways. He had never, once, doubted his wife's love; after all not only was she the girl who had cried during her vows, she was also the girl who sent him text messages to check if he was alright and the girl who was willing to wait up for him when even he didn't know himself when he was coming home. He, on the other hand, was the guy who had lied to her.

"I'm sorry, Joan…" He muttered, slipping his phone into his pocket as he saw his guest enter the restaurant and made her way over to their table for two. "I'm sorry for being that guy."

The perfect gentlemen, taught well by his father about how to treat a lady, Arthur stood, offered his dinner date a kiss on the cheek before he pulled her chair out for her. "Good evening, Arthur."

"Hey, Veronica."

"Is everything OK?" She asked as she slipped her cardigan off and draped it around the back of her chair.

"I'm sorry?"

"I caught you looking at your phone as I came in. I'm not keeping you from anything, am I?"

"No," he said with a shake of his head, taking his seat opposite her. "That was…that was nobody."

"Good. I'm glad I'm keeping you from…_nobody_."

Arthur forced a smile as he was hit by guilt for the third, and by far the worst time. It was more of a tidal wave of guilt as he realized he had truly become that guy. That guy who had just called his wife nobody – even when she meant _everything_ to him.

# # #

The lights were still on when he got back, a little after ten. The TV was gently humming away as he gently shut the door behind him, placing his battered case down on the floor before he tiptoed through into the living room.

"For a spy, you're not very good at sneaking in." Even after years of marriage and knowing just how damn good a spy Joan was, Arthur still found her ability to sense his presence like that, just a tad uncanny.

"I wasn't sneaking in," he said softly as he came round the sofa and crouched down to be at his wife's eye line as she lay sprawled out on the sofa. "I didn't know whether you were still up. I didn't want to wake you, that's all."

She nodded, reached out a hand to gently graze the side of his face. "Everything OK at work?"

He inwardly sighed. "OK but hectic." His hand reached up to gently take hers. "You look tired, babe."

"You do too."

Arthur nodded. "Long day, I guess. A long day which I'm incredibly sorry dragged on for so long. But you didn't have to wait up, you know."

"It's OK. I wanted to." She smiled at him before she covered her mouth with her hand to mask her yawn.

He couldn't help but smile and lean forward to meet her lips with his. "C'mon. You need to go to bed." She opened her mouth to protest but he cut her off. "No arguments, missy. If I have to carry you, I will." He got to his feet and offered a hand to help her up.

She accepted, her fatigue seemingly eroding that famous Joan Campbell stubbornness and, once up on her feet, he led her to the foot of the stairs before that stubbornness returned. "Wait, you need to eat…"

He shook his head. "I'm not that hungry, truth be told. Go to bed. I'll be up in a few minutes after locking up and the needful down here, OK?"

Again, she appeared to go to protest but this time it was her exhaustion that got the better of her, not him. Placing a hand on his chest, she kissed him before she made her way upstairs. He watched her and once she was no longer in sight, he pulled out his phone to read to the message that he had received just as he stepped through the door.

It was from Veronica. And his response was short.

"_I'll see you then."_


	2. Chapter 2

It sounded sappy. It no doubt went against the whole Ice Queen reputation that Joan knew she had somehow inherited from those not just under her command but her peers too, at Langley. As sappy and as it may be, it was the God's honest truth. Seeing her husband in the morning, waking up beside him, exchanging _good mornings_, _I love yous_ and a simple kiss or two, always put her in a good mood first thing. Caffeine was all well and dandy but her husband was a much better drug and, though she had fought her past demons, she still had one addiction that she'd never let go of. _Him_.

And rolling over as she came out of her slumber, stretching an arm across to her husband's side of the bed, wanting to feel his warmth and to hold him, she was hit by withdrawal. The palm of her hand met nothing but cool bed sheets. Opening her tired eyes, she saw that Arthur was indeed not beside her and she felt her heart sink.

"Hey, honey."

Just as her mind began to wander and wander, his voice interrupted her thoughts. She sat up and saw his warm smile as he stood in the doorway of their bedroom with a cup of coffee in his hand, already dressed. Joan couldn't stop the grin that quickly took over her lips. "Hey."

"Good morning," he said as he came over and sat down next to where her feet lay and handed her the cup.

"Thank you," she smiled as she accepted the mug, letting her hand brush against his. "And good morning to you too. You're up early."

"Or maybe you're just up late."

"I'm…?" She glanced over to the alarm clock on the bedside table.

"Ha! Gotcha."

She shook her head, still smiling. "Mature."

"Aren't I just?" As he reached out to tuck a stray lock of her hair behind her ear, she couldn't help but notice that he was wearing the fancy, yet painfully expensive, set of cufflinks that she'd gotten him for his birthday a few years back.

"So, how many senators are you brownnosing today?"

He stared at her blankly, the look that she knew meant that he was confused as hell.

"The cufflinks, Arthur. And the fact that you're up just after seven, already showered and dressed."

"Oh." He traced his fingers along the duvet before he finally rested a hand on her leg. All the while, not elaborating further, not giving an answer of any sort and avoiding eye contact.

"Arthur?" He looked up at her voice. "What's going on?"

He blinked, sighed and dodged her gaze again and he leaned forward, allowing his elbows to rest on his legs. "I'm sorry, babe. I know we had plans but I, uh, I've gotta work late tonight."

"Again?" She didn't care about their plans, which was dinner at a four star restaurant and tickets to the theatre. She cared, and only cared, about losing her husband for yet another night.

"Again," he confirmed with a solitary and slow nod. "I'm so sorry, honey. I feel like an actual idiot right now and I really wish I didn't have to but I do. There's a lot going on right now and it's kinda important."

Even know she knew what his answer to her next question would be, she still asked him. "What's so important?"

"Joan…" Another sigh. "You know I can't say."

"I know…I was just kinda hoping that you could for once." She placed her cup of coffee on the bedside table, suddenly losing all interest in it. "It's OK. It's not your fault." It was never his fault.

"Yeah but I still feel like a dick. You, you have the tickets. Take a friend."

"No." She shook her head. "They were meant to be our tickets. It won't be the same. You know I only go to the theatre with you." It had become their little tradition. She'd never been a huge fan of shows, operas and musicals but he was. And that was why she enjoyed going when otherwise, she'd be bored to tears. It wouldn't be the same without his little quips and obscure knowledge that he'd throw in during a performance. It wouldn't be the same without stealing his ice cream and, also his hand in the relative and romantic darkness of when the lights were dimmed.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. It's fine."

"OK but still, I'm sorry."

"Stop apologising."

"Sorry."

"Arthur."

He laughed but it was clear that it was a laugh he wasn't feeling and he glanced down at his watch. "I've gotta go."

"Already?"

"Early meeting, meetings all morning, all damn day." He stood to his feet and glanced down at them, as if waiting for her to speak in the few moments that he could spare before he had to dash. She didn't and he was not able to take the awkward silence any longer. "I'll see you later, hon. Love you."

His kiss lingered on her lips. "Love you too."

# # #

Unless that file that had been thrust into her hands this morning upon her arrival to the DPD contained details about why her husband had been becoming increasingly distant recently, it wasn't important to her. The file, she had learned from a quick skim, was about a proposed drone strike that the agency were finally willing to sanction after weeks and weeks of trying to force the higher-ups to indeed sanction the op yet was no more than just words to her, this morning. Her husband was all she could think about and every time she tried to force herself to stop thinking about him so that she could focus on the job, a literal matter of state security, at hand, she failed miserably, her eyes drifting to the red photo frame that took pride of place on her desk. That was not uncommon, she did that everyday truth be told, but today more than ever.

Maybe it was her. She was annoyed, sure – she was finding herself losing her husband to work more and more these days, of course she was annoyed. She wanted nothing more than a date night with him, even if it was nothing more than watching a DVD as they sat and cuddled on the sofa. Maybe he knew that she was annoyed…maybe he thought she was annoyed with him. That was not the case; that'd never be the case. It wasn't his fault but if he mistakenly thought that was what she thought then who was to say that he wasn't annoyed with him.

_Oh God._

She flipped the file shut, knowing that there was no hope in hell of being able to concentrate when she had these horrid thoughts on her mind. She had to put this right.

Arthur's desk phone went straight to voicemail, so she tried going through his secretary.

"Director Campbell's office."

"Hey Midge, it's Joan. Arthur's not answering, I'm assuming he's in a meeting, right now, yeah?"

"Gimme a minute and I'll check that out for you." Keys clicked and paper rustled and then Midge's voice finally came back down the line. "He's got nothing on his schedule today or tomorrow for that matter."

"Wait…wait, he told me he had meetings today. Nothing at all?"

"Nothing at all. He's actually out of the office, right now. He just left, ten, fifteen minutes ago."

Just this morning…_early meeting, meetings all morning, meetings all damn day_. Why would he say that if he didn't? Even if it was off-the-books, he'd tell her that, he trusted her. She trusted him and yet, yet he had lied? They weren't that couple. Well, she thought that they weren't-.

"Mrs Campbell? Ma'am?"

Joan blinked, coming out of her mind and back to her office, realising that she was still on the line. "Sorry, yeah?"

"Would you like me to pass on a message for him?"

"No," she said firmly and perhaps a little too firmly to the poor secretary who was merely doing her job. "No, thank you," she added before she placed the phone down, her eyes wandering back to that photograph as she wondered what was going on. Wondered why he would say such a thing to her.

Wondered, for the first time ever, if she really did know that man in the photograph, the man whom she was looking lovingly at with her hand pressed against his chest, better than she knew herself.

# # #

So much for keeping this covert.

"For heaven's sake, I'm a public figure. We shouldn't be meeting here. I told you to wait inside."

Veronica looked at him with wide eyes, seemingly startled by his agitation which was reflected in his tone. "Arthur, we met here last night. What's the difference?"

He gently took her arm, linking it with his and led her into the restaurant that was located a few miles outside of DC. He spoke in a hushed tone. "The difference is it's literally broad daylight, out in the open and I'm a guy whose got many a person waiting to take me down. Me meeting a pretty girl like yourself is always going to raise suspicion and they won't just leave it at there. They'll dig deeper and when they do, we're both screwed."

"Arthur, honey. What's the matter? You seem a little…or lack of a better word, pissed."

Sighing, he slumped down into the chair that he had just pulled out for himself. He rubbed his tired eyes. Of course he was pissed. He did not want to do this, to meet her at this time of the day was running an even bigger risk of being found out and he'd be risking losing everything that mattered to him. But they had had no other option. So they had to. And he had had to lie to his wonderful wife, whom he knew trusted him completely – that, that was why he was pissed. "I am…sorry. Sorry, it's been a long day-." It was early and had actually been a fairly nice day as he had had a rare few moments with his wife so that was another lie. "I shouldn't be taking it out on you, I'm sorry. Let's start this over. Hello, Veronica."

She smiled back at him. "Hello, Arthur," she replied and reached for a menu, passing one to him. "Let's eat, I'm starving."


End file.
